by Gage Grayson
I’ll win it. For myself and for Brooke. And even for the rest of my hometown, if push comes to shove.
Brooke is still gently sleeping beside me, though her alarm is due to go off any minute now. I use the blessed time granted to me to simply watch her.
I’m completely mesmerized and captivated by her.
The way her chest slowly moves up and down as she breathes. The way she’s curled one leg over the duvet. The way one errant strand of hair is lying across her face, becoming momentarily airborne every time her breath catches it.
Smiling, I gently move the strand of hair away. The movement wakes Brooke—she returns my smile with a sleepy one of her own.
“Time is it?”
I try to kiss her on the nose, but she tilts her head up so that I kiss her lips instead.
“Your alarm is just about to go off.”
As if on cue, the tinny, annoying noise of the alarm begins to sound, causing Brooke to groan dramatically as she slams a hand down on the thing to turn it off.
“Ugh, must I get up? Feels like we hardly slept.”
I smirk. “That’s because we didn’t.” I snake a hand down over Brooke’s naked body to rest somewhere on her thigh.
She gives me a wicked grin. “I suppose there’s not enough time for one more round?”
I glance at the time. “Not if we want to grab breakfast and have you make it on time for work. I’m all for you skipping out on today, though.”
Ah, damn. I promised myself I wouldn’t say anything like that.
Brooke sighs, stretching her arms luxuriously above her head before sitting up. “Nah, I don’t want to do that. Wouldn’t be fair on the kids.”
“You have a point.”
Brooke kisses me, and I deepen it almost immediately. How I’d love nothing more than to throw her back down on her back.
“Save that for later,” she says, looking down pointedly at my raging hard-on.
I glance in the direction of the bathroom suggestively. “You know, that shower is definitely big enough for two.”
Another sigh. Brooke gently bites my lip.
“Maybe we can sneak in a quickie…but only if you’re buying the breakfast.”
“Deal, but I’m going to go grab a quick coffee first.”
We share a quick kiss that threatens to become more, before she pushes me away with a laugh.
“Go get coffee and then come find me.”
And so, I head to the kitchen while Brooke picks out her outfit for the day, making some coffee as I check emails on my phone. The sound of the Keurig brewing my coffee—and the vanilla hazelnut smell—is calming, relaxing. It puts me at ease—an ease that I never feel in New York.
I could get used to this kind of quiet morning.
I spend a few minutes browsing through news articles on my phone, and just as I move to set it down on the counter, it starts to suddenly vibrate in my hand.
“Who the fuck is calling me this early?” I mutter.
Then I see the name.
Roland Parker
Even with New York being one hour ahead, this is a bit too early for Roland to be in the office.
I answer anyway.
“Morning, Roland. What can I do for you?”
“Morning, Dylan. I’ll cut to the chase. You need to come back to New York.”
“What?”
“Drop your case. We need you here. You’re too valuable to have out there in Texas this long.”
Ah. As true as that may be, I’m not ready to leave Brooke.
“Excuse me for saying so, Roland, but I believe that that would be a massive mistake.”
There’s a pause. “And what makes you say that?”
“Can you really not see the benefit this would have for the firm?” I lie smoothly, making up shit as I go along. “We’re the most successful firm in New York, but in order to become the most successful firm in the country, we need to branch out.”
“Okay, consider me mildly interested. Go on.”
“Now I know plans to branch out haven’t been finalized yet, but we’d be fools to pass this up. The case has received national press. If I drop the case now, it’ll make the firm look weaker than it is. For the firm’s sake, I have no choice but to stay on.”
There’s another pause, but I feel as though I can hear the wheels turning inside my boss’ head.
“And besides, things are looking very, very promising right now. Even if you give me just a few more days, I know the ruling will be in our favor. The merger will fail,” I add. “And think of how that will look to the press when we, Parker, McDowell, and Emmerich, were at the helm, doing this because it was a just cause. That kind of good press is invaluable.”
On the other line, Roland Parker laughs. Laughter is a good sign.
“I get it, I get it. I had no idea you were thinking this far ahead when you took on the case.”
“I always am, Roland.”
There’s another pause, as per Roland’s style.
“I have to say, with this on top of your stellar work in New York, the partners and I are impressed. Very impressed.”
I feel a slight churning in my stomach. Anticipation. I have an idea of what’s coming next.
“We’re considering adding you as partner to the firm, provided you win this case. I should stress this again…you have to win. It’s too public to lose. Do you understand, Dylan?”
I don’t say anything for a moment. Being partner—it’s what I’ve been working towards for years now. It has been my literal dream.
But then I think of Brooke.
No, get your head together. This is your life you’re talking about.
“Come on, Roland, you know me better than that. When have I ever lost? You know I’ve got this.”
“So, you accept?”
How can I not? I’d have to be fucking stupid to decline.
“Of course. I’d be honored to be partner. You know I won’t let you down.”
I can practically see Roland’s grin over the phone. “Well, then, let’s hope your winning streak holds up and this case wraps up quickly. Call me when you have any updates, Dylan.”
“Of course, Roland. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“And you, yours.” Roland hangs up.
In the back of my mind, I realize that the sound of the coffee brewing has stopped—but coffee is the last thing on my mind.
I’ve been left with a huge complication that I hadn’t foreseen.
Partner in the most successful law firm in New York. It’s what I’ve always wanted. But it means, more than ever, that I’ll have to stay in New York. There’s no negotiation there.
Things between me and Brooke will have to end. I just wish it were later rather than sooner. But with the way the case is going, I know with deep-seated certainty that it’s going to be the latter.
I’m fucking screwed.
Chapter 26
Brooke
I slump back against the wall of the hallway and feel like I’ve been kicked in the gut. My heart is pounding so hard, I can feel its beat in my throat.
One word plays over and over again in my head.
Partner.
It doesn’t get much bigger than that for a lawyer working in one of New York’s most prestigious law firms. And they threw it at Dylan, and he gladly scooped it up.
I’m both devastated and furious. Not at Dylan—well, not completely—but at myself.
Foolishly, I let myself believe in this fantasy, and that, maybe—just maybe—things could be different this time around.
You’re a fucking idiot, Brooke Sinclair.
I knew better. I fucking knew better.
But no. I got wrapped up in all these feelings that should have been dead and buried. I let myself dig up the specter of the past and let it take hold.
From day one, I told myself not to get close to him—to keep my distance—so that this exact fucking thing wouldn’t happen. And yet it still did.
I look at the
stairs in front of me. For a moment, I consider marching down to confront Dylan over what I’ve just heard. But getting away from the wall is harder than I expected; it feels like I’ve been Gorilla Glued to it.
It doesn’t seem like Dylan has noticed me up here, and I use that to my advantage to slip back to my bedroom.
My body bounces gently against the plush sheets of my bed as I fall against it.
The faint sound of the ceiling fan spinning round feels deafening in the overwhelming silence. Usually, I find comfort in the gentle hum of the whirling blades as I lay down at night to sleep, but, now, it feels as loud and distracting as a jet turbine.
I want to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head. I want to cry into the pillow and call Jessie, so I can yell at her for not stopping me from getting involved with Dylan all over again.
I want to do everything but face Dylan or the world today. But I have to. It’s time to put on my big girl pants and get shit done.
Grabbing my phone from the end table, I pull up Jessie’s number and shoot her a quick text message.
My place. Tonight. Bring the Ben & Jerry’s.
I haven’t even set the phone back down when it vibrates angrily at me.
What happened? Everything okay?
“Oh, Jessie, you have no fucking clue,” I whisper to myself.
Just be here with the ice cream. I’ll buy the beer.
I set the phone back down and rise to my feet.
Grabbing a towel from my linen closet feels like such a chore, which I detest, because I love morning showers.
The hot water feels amazing but does little to soothe my racing thoughts.
“Hey, what is this? You’re grabbing a shower without me?”
I’m so wrapped up in the jumble of thoughts, I barely register his voice calling out to me from the bathroom doorway.
“Um, Brooke?”
“Huh? Oh! Sorry, I’m just about done anyway.”
I’m not really. I only just got in here and haven’t even washed my hair, or anything else, for that matter.
I peel back the shower curtains to see Dylan leaning against the bathroom sink.
His arms are folded over his bare chest as he stands there naked before me. His dusky hair is a mess, but it works for him, especially with that stubble adorning his jawline. His skin is softly glistening in the light, thanks to the steam that the shower created; even a couple droplets slide between the groves of his abs and down toward his Adonis belt.
As conflicted as I am, I still bite my lip at the sight of him.
Dylan’s emerald eyes look over my wet body, and it’s impossible to miss that wanting look that radiates from him.
For a moment, it’s hard not to throw myself at him and kiss those perfectly shaped lips of his. But to do so would turn this jumble of everything I’m feeling up to eleven. And I really don’t need to be having a Spinal Tap moment right now.
“Towel, please.”
His lips twist into a lopsided smirk, sending a cold shiver down my spine that excites me. This isn’t what I need right now.
“Please, Dylan.”
He lifts the towel off the counter and hands it to me so I can dry myself off.
I only do a half-assed job, wanting to hurry up and leave the room. Being closer to him only complicates things, and I need some distance now.
“You’re in a rush this morning.”
I’m relieved that there’s no suspicion in his voice, but there’s certainly some curiosity.
“I completely forget that there’s a teacher meeting this morning about the merger. Helen messaged me about it, and I’m the one person who can’t be late.”
“Oh, well then. Better get a move on.”
I’m alleviated that he buys what I’m selling. But not before he moves in for a kiss.
I feel the pressure of his lips against mine in a gentle and affectionate embrace, and it scares me how easy it is to just slip into the warmth of his touch. Regardless of everything plaguing my mind, being with him is so fucking effortless that it’s damn near magical in nature.
“Well, since we won’t be able to have breakfast together this morning, what do you say about dinner? We can stay in, and I can surprise you with more of my cooking.”
So much of me wants to say yes and just spend as much time with him as I can before his inevitable departure, regardless of just how much more pain it’ll dump on me.
“I’d love to, but I can’t. I already told Helen I would stay later to help her nail down some statements for the press. And today is my day to help the kids with their prom decorations.”
“Oh.” He sounds disappointed, despite a smile adorning his lips.
“Don’t worry. We still have plenty of chances for dinner dates.”
It’s another lie, but he nods in agreement.
“Well, I can’t fault that logic,” he says with a bit more cheer. “Look, you should get ready and proceed to your meeting. I don’t want you to be late. I’ll make sure to lock up after my shower.”
“Thank you,” I say with a semi-forced smile.
We share another kiss, brief but no less affectionate, before he climbs into the shower. Once he pulls the curtains closed, I power walk to my bedroom.
I don’t even realize that I’m trembling until I open my closet door.
I know that Dylan wouldn’t understand what I’m doing, and I know it’s going to hurt him as much as it’s going to hurt me. I don’t want to hurt him, but what I’m doing is going to be better for the both of us in the long run.
At least, that’s what I have to keep telling myself.
Chapter 27
Dylan
“Oh, come on! He was safe! What a bullshit call!”
My eyebrow arches as I look over at Eric with mild surprise.
“When the fuck did you get into baseball, anyway?”
“When I opened a sports bar,” he answers with a laugh.
Since Brooke’s busy again tonight with stuff for the school, I gave Eric a call to see about grabbing some beer and wings, and he was available. And since the Touchdown is the best place in town for wings and beer, here we are.
“I figured with you being up north—in New York, nonetheless—that you’d be all about baseball. Aren’t the Yankees a religion up there?”
There’s a small laugh that slips out from my lips at his statement, and I take a long drink of my beer.
“Oh, and Heineken? What happened to drinking old fashioned American beer, man?”
I almost choke on my beer as I laugh and set my green bottle down on the bar top.
I clear my throat after I’ve composed myself and look over at my best friend with a grin.
“Firstly, yes, Heineken. If it’s so bad, then why do you stock it? Secondly, old fashioned American beer tastes like piss in a bottle. American whiskey, on the other hand, that, I will drink.”
“Like Jack Daniels?”
“Well, yes. But there are more brands than just Jack Daniels.”
“Bullshit!”
We laugh together, and I know that I’m really going to miss all of this once I leave.
I look around the bar, not at anything in particular, but just to take in the sight of it. Everything from the picture of him and me, winning our final state championship in high school, to the nicks and scratches on the bar.
“What are you looking at, Pickle?”
“Nothing, really. Just thinking that I’m going to miss this place after I leave.”
“Well, you know you’re always welcome.”
“Oh, I know that. But it’s just a matter of when or if I’ll be able to visit after I get back to New York. I’m going to be busier than ever after I win this case.”
“Got a big backlog of cases waiting for you?”
“Well, that’s part of it. I had a phone call with my bosses a couple of days ago at Brooke’s. They said that if I return to the city with a win under my belt, they’ll make me partner.”
Eri
c’s eyes go wide with excitement, and he pats me on the shoulder. His excitement mirrors my own from when I finished that phone call, but that excitement has long faded.
Even now, when I tell him the news, my tone is nonchalant and uninterested.
“That’s amazing news, Pickle! Partner! That’s huge. Especially if your law firm really is the big deal you say it is.”
“Thanks, Mack.”
There’s a shift in Eric’s features. His smile falters, and his brow furrows in concern and curiosity.
“What’s going on, Pickle? News like this is huge. You should be over the moon, and we should be celebrating. But you’re looking like someone just killed you’re fucking dog.”
“It is huge news. And I was excited. Immensely.”
It’s not a lie. I was on Cloud Nine when Roland threw out the word. I’ve been wanting to make partner since day one at the firm, and it’s been one of the driving forces behind my success—that, and that I hate to lose.
But now, it feels almost bittersweet.
“But that was a couple days ago. And you know that a lot can change in a couple of days, Eric.”
Eric shifts in his stool and turns to face me. I can barely make out his blue eyes through the furrowed brow.
“What’s going on, Dylan? What’s up?”
“Ever since I got the call, I’ve been noticing some changes in Brooke.”
“Uh oh.”
“Exactly,” I say with a heavy sigh. “I think she overheard me talking on the phone that morning. At first, I didn’t think anything of it, but after these last couple of days, it’s been rather obvious that she’s avoiding me.”
“Fuck. But that answers my questions.”
I look at Eric, confused. What fucking questions did you have before now?
“Questions?” I venture.
“About Jessie. She’s been telling me the last couple of days that she’s been busy with administration stuff for the vineyard, but I knew it was a lie.”
“And you didn’t think to ask her what was up?”
“No. Why would I?”
“Well, you said you knew it was a lie. Why wouldn’t you speak up?”
“For starters, that woman scares me. And I figured it was just her planning some surprise trip like she did last year for our anniversary. I knew it was a lie, sure, but I still trust her.”